He Knows His Way In The Dark
by MeBeShe4815
Summary: I'm Back! I had to delete this parents made me do it But i'm back! It's Valjean and Javert's relationship through Toloun and more..so slash,prolly confision on Javert's part and some smut later on.hopefully This is a moviebook crossover
1. Chapter 1

Shora: Hello everybody! For those of you returning to my writing, hello again, for those of you who are new…Welcome. This is a venture into Les' Mis' fandom. This is a Jean ValJeanxJavert paring, so Yaoi, Angst, Suicide and deals heavily into Religion because of Javert. I hope you like it!

Killers, murders, rapists, and thieves…they all come here. Here to Toulon…under me, under my post… Inspector Javert walked down the line of inmates, chain and shackled by the neck to one another, the hot sun causing heat waves to appear less then 5 feet in front of him. It was mid-summer at everybody was feeling the heat. He had long-ago forsaken his jacket and was walking around in his crisp white shirt, his slicked back hair reverting to his natural curls at the base of his neck. The inmates and long ago tossed their ratty old shirts aside and the sweat was making trails down their dirt streaked backs. He paused over one inmate. 24601…. claimed to be stealing a loaf of bread for a hungry child. These beasts only think of themselves… Those dark eyes glanced over at him and locked with his. For one moment Javert could see the fire, the hatred, the utter resentment in those murky depths…and then he spoke.

"Why do you watch me so Inspector? Could it be that you have not the faith in me?" His deep voice rumbled and a dark eyebrow quirked upwards toward heaven.

"You are a convict. Scum of the streets, 24601" He responded with a sneer.

The said scum rose to his full height and said: "My name is Jean ValJean!"

The sound of the whip filled the yard as a small tongue of blood made it's away cross ValJean's cheek. He dug his fingers into the greasy hair and wrenched him down on all fours.

"You will not speak to me in such a bold manner, convict." He bent down next to ValJean's head. "Remember, I control your life."

With that he rose up to his full height, all 5'9" of it, bellowed: "Get back to work!" Wiping his fingers on another officer's shoulder.

Soon the familiar sounds of rocks and groans continued to fill up the yard, chasing away the demonic silence. The old church bell rang at 8:00 the convicts got into a line, and had their wrists held out for shackling. Javert walked down the line glaring at each of the bent heads and shoulders. When he came up to 24601, his back was straight and head erect, arms down.

"Hold out your wrists, 24601."

He waited a few breaths.

"Hold out your wrists." Javert waited. ValJean did nothing.

"HOLD OUT YOUR WRISTS!" Javert said, pulling out his pistol.

Valjean held out his wrists and glared poison daggers at the inspector who took it upon himself to shackle his arms, and walked on, back upright, but head down so as not to let the demon inspector see the shame running hot in face.

After that incident Javert came to watch 24601 in such a fashion one almost claim it was stalker-ish. Wherever Javert went along the yard one eye was in front of him and the other was on 24601's head. When he passed by ValJean, their eyes always locked, and it ended with Javert banging his head against his cot at night and ValJean sleeping on his stomach from the whip wound. One particular day, caused Javert's foundation's to be shaken.

Studies have been proven that in the absence of female companionship, the male rats chose to have intercourse with one another, but when a female was placed in the same cage, they chose the female every time…

Javert was walking along the silent stone cordoors during the one day they got off, the Sabbath. He walked down the corridor and made a turn into a small chapel, of witch only he knew of. He knelt by the small alter and lit a candle and begin to pray, his soft voice filling the small, ill-used room.

"Our Father, thou art in heaven, Hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, they will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

He stayed in that position-hands clasped before him, head bowed, in prayer as he prayed for what he normally prayed for, his soul, the soul of his colleagues, the country, the health of the king and queen, but this time, he prayed for the soul of the man who had been occupying his thoughts, whose eyes have been haunting him in his dreams. He prayed for the soul of 24601. Just then, he was shaken out of his prayer buy a loud thump against the wood of the door. He stood up with a groan and was half way to the door when he heard a long, drawn out moan. He paused, thinking, and assumed another officer had snuck a whore in. It wouldn't have been the first time. But then the moan was answered by a masculine voice. One that he knew.

"Jac, mind yourself. We'll get caught by Javert." His eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He was even to stunned to call ValJean by his number.

J-Jean ValJean! I didn't know he was…I didn't know you could. 25705 stopped his inner monoluge.

"You wish it was him, don't you."

That small sentence caused his blood to run cold, and his skin to go pale. He slowly made is way back to the alter and sat down, ignoring the moans and soon, thumps against the wooden door. Be soon he realized what those sounds were doing to him. He shifted from where he was sitting to another position, but that only made his arousal more evident, and he walked to the altar and knelt, hands clasped, granite features paled and screwed into a pace of pleading as he lifted his head to stare into the face of the small crucifix that he put there.

Dear God, take away these un-holy temptation I have. I have tried to be a good Christian, a good child of the Lord. Please don't let me fall out of Your path. I need to be in the Light. I am not a bad person. I have always followed Your word. Don't let me fall.

He stayed like that until he felt the erection go, and he was surprised to find he face wet. He hadn't cried in over 10 years. He shakely got to his knees, and walked back to his room, and collapsed on the bed, and fell into an uneasy, and fitful sleep.

Shora: How do you like it? Good, Bad, in between? The more you review, the faster I update…


	2. Chapter 2

Shora: Hi again! I'm writing the second chapter. I hope this one wont be a miserable failure. I just finished reading the book…my god…Javert was awesome! He was a catty, sarcastic, egotistical bastard, but he was hot! Ummm…anyway…I hope 'yall like this here chapter…remember…Feed The Authors!

Ever since that night, Javert couldn't look at 24601 without blushing. He also had more vivid dreams every night. They first were blurry, the only thing that he could recall was the touch of lips against his, and a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He woke up, groggy, but with a shadow of the flutter in his lower belly. They continued like that for some time, until the hands touched him. In his dream he jumped, and apparently, he also jumped in real life, because one of his subordinates asked him what scared him last night. Then he heard the breathing in his dreams, it started out as steady deep breaths, then as the hands were introduced, then the lips on top of that, then the breath came shallower, and quicker and the feeling in his stomach spread until he knew himself to be kissing back in the dream-realm, his own hands roaming over the broad shoulders, the scar-traced back, entangling his fingers into the long, stringy hair, tasting the mystery person. Then he brought his hands forward and ran his hand down the neck, then to the chest, where his sensitive fingertips brushed against a brand. He jolted up in his sleep. His breathing was heavy from a mix of desire and fear…he ran his hands through his hair as he stepped out of his bed and across his cold wooden (1) room.

He paced. As he let himself calm down. Then it all made since. He glanced over to his window and wanted to see stars, for they reassured him. He didn't know why, they always have. But he didn't see stars. He saw the first few locks of dawn, seeing as she was just raising her beautiful, yet cruel head. He sighed, weary to his bones, and walked over to his trunk and pulled out his pants, pulled them on. He slipped his feet into his boots as he fastened his revolver and baton on the loops of his belt. He pulled on his shirt, and tucked the tails into his pants, then, leaving his shirt unbuttoned, fastened his belt, and was just reaching for the top button of his shirt, when he heard the alarm sound. It was the alarm for an escaping convict.

He ran out into the deck (2), his shirt completely open, and ran after the retreating figure in red.

"STOP!"

He knew that his command was to be ignored. The man was about to jump overboard, when our precious warden saw his chance. He took his baton, and brought it into contact with the man's ribs. Above the cry of pain and the crunch of wood, he heard bones snap. The man crumpled to a heap. Javert stood there, bent nearly double, hands on his knees, breathing heavy twice that day. The red heap at his feet rolled over, and he felt his face screw into an expression of shock. 24601 glared up at him, his gray eyes full of hatred. There was a trail of blood coming out of his mouth from when he fell. Javert saw his eyes sweep his body as the rest of the guards arrived. "Take him to my office." Javert panted. Then he stood up, pushed his hair back off of his face and started to button his shirt as he walked calmly toward his office. When he got there, 24601 were shirtless, getting treated by the prisons resident doctor. He averted his eyes as he walked around to the back of his desk, sitting down in his chair, not using the backrest because of the tension in his body.

"24601," he began, "I do not even need to know why you attempted to escape, or how, or what you intended to do once you got out of prison, but you _are_ going to be punished. You will receive four days off from your duties, to rest and to heal-" at that point he was interrupted by the doctor.

"Monsieur The Warden. He will need a good two weeks. You broke three of his ribs."

Javert glared daggers at the doctor, who "eeped" and started to pack his supplies.

"Fine…a week. But then you will do double duty. And four years will be added to your sentence." When he said that, the silent statue in front of him broke.

"Fours years! But I have to get back to my sister! And my nieces and nephews. How are they to feed themselves!"

"Then you should have though of that _before_ you tried to run. And when your ribs are healed, then I will consider wither you have been given enough punishment."

"Punishment!" The convict roared as he jumped out of his seat. "You have added four years to my life in hell!"

Javert leaped up. "Do you want me to make it 10? SIT DOWN!" His hand went to his baton and 24601's resolve faltered.

"Doctor, take this man back to his cell." Without faltering Javert followed them as the door closed. He then collapsed into his chair, back slumped, head in his hands. _I need a vacation. _

1: Wooden, because the prison was really a ship…

2: Again, the ship…


	3. Chapter 3

Shora: Hello again! Nothing new to report on my front! R&R!

Javert collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to kneel on the wooden floor to say his prayers. He turned over onto his back, staring at the wood, listening to the gentle sighing of the ocean, and the loud screeching of the gulls above. He closed his eyes in memory of that morning the other day. He didn't know why it hurt him so much on the inside to hurt 24601. He felt a pain in his chest, like a vortex that led right to the prisoners cell. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He still saw 24601's eyes as he sentenced him to four more years. He saw desperation, anger, and a swelling of hate. But behind all of that, a bit of…happiness, hope, joy, love? He sat up in his bed as he heard footsteps approaching. He put his bed back in order, smoothed his hair, and sat down at his desk, a book open, pretending to translate the Latin into French. Sure enough…_knock knock knock._

"Come in.," he said, not looking up from his book.

"Monsieur Warden?"

Javert looked up from his book at the impish doctor who was trembling.

"You bothered me why?"

"P-prisoner ValJean-"

"Who?"

"24601.he…he has a fever. A bad one. His bones. The breaks…they're infected. B-badly. W-we have to take him to a hospital on the mainland…or he'll die."

With that news, Javert put down his quill, and faced the doctor, worried.

"Take me to him."

With that he stood up, and followed the doctor, getting more and more worried by the second. When he finally got to 24601's cell, he noticed the usual cellmates weren't there. He stepped in, and we meet by a wall of heat. He noticed the writhing mass of blankets on the wooden mattress. Then his face turned toward him. Avert had to keep from crying out and rushing over to 24601's side. His face was screwed with a grimace of pain. He did walk over and kneel at 24601's side, brushing off the sweaty hair from his face. He saw the prisioner's eyes open.

"J-javert? Not another fever dream…" with that he fell back into unconscious. Javert turned toward the doctor.

"If he stays here, how long?"

"Only a few weeks. If we take him to the mainland, with medicine, and if he gets worse, we could take him to Paris."

"He'll go to the mainland. Il go with him."

"Javert! What on earth?" the doctor said, completely stunned so he forgot to address Javert with respect.

"Do you really think that I am going to send a convict outside alone? Get packed. We leave immediately." Javert walked back into his room, closed the door and sat down head in his hands. How could he do that to his convict? Wait? _His_ convict? Since when was ValJean _his_ convict? Wait..When did he start referring to him as ValJean? He was just so…. confused by the conflicting emotions in his chest. He stood up and started packing his meager possessions. By the time he was in the coach, to take ValJean to the hospital, he fingers were permanently glued to his small silver cross that was around his neck at all times.

He saw ValJean..damnit! 24601 get carried in wrapped in blankets and layed down on the bench across from his. There was some space left by his head, and Javert managed to squeeze him slef in , laying ValJeans head in his lap, under the pretense that his head needed to be elevated. He kept praying to God that He wont let ValJean die. Every time he heard a moan of pain from the man in his lap, a dagger was driven into his chest. When they reached the hospital, he was right there, next to him as the nurses wrapped him up, injected some clear liquid into him, and left a bowl of broth on the bedside table. He sat down on a chair near the bed, worried to death, but eventually sleep overcame him.

He heard a moan in the darkness, and his name being called, "Javert….Javert!" he looked up from his chair to see his prostitute mother, beaten, bruised, and heavily pregnant, but wearing a clean linen gown and bathed in a white light. "M-mother?" he asked, hardly daring to believe that it was she, she who raised him in that stinking hovel of a prison. "Yes Javert, my darling boy. It is I. No, don't speak" she said, after he opened his mouth to ask some questions. "I am here to give you a message. You have finally found happiness. Don't lose it…." With that she faded into the darkness…

Javert jolted awake, breathing heavily, book jolted down to the floor.

"I've finally found happiness?" he questioned, glancing over at the new-ly shaven ValJean. "Don't lose it."

Shora: What'd ya think? Good…bad…ok? R&R peoples!


	4. Chapter 4

Shora: Hello! Thanks for the reviews! Made this sickly girl feel much better! Yes, im sick _again!_ I think I got it at the Pantages when I went to see CATS…amazing play by the way…oh! I thought of something when I was washing my dad's car…just these lines:

"What on earth are you saying Javert?" "What I'm saying Monsieur La Prefect, is that Jean Val Jean, ex-convict Jean ValJean, ex-mayor Jean ValJean is really…..CARMEN SANDIEGO!" I know…. don't ask….im gonna put that into a crack fic….I just saw the '98 version of Les Mis…they put in a lot of things, but left out some vital people. For one, THEY LEFT OUT EPONINE! WTH! LES MIS ISN'T LES MIS WITHOUT EPONINE! And two, THEY LEFT OUT ENJOLRAS! HOW THE HELL COULD THEY LEAVE OUT ENJY! And get this….THEY MADE **_MARIUS _** THE LEADER OF LES AMIS! WIMPY MARIUS! DEAR LORD HOW DENSE ARE THESE PEOPLE! ….that settles it…..I offically hate Hollywood!

But Geoffrey Rush did an amazing job of playing Javert….whatev…once again…im sick so..i ramble….Mooooooooooooooo..on to the fic! WhOOOO

Note: I'm to sure if I mentioned this, but this is a bookxmusicalxmovie crossover…

Javert looked over at ValJean. They had left the mainland and had gone onward to Paris, ValJean getting slightly better, and Javert coming to term with his own feelings for the convict. He realized that he was falling for the convict, but decided to ignore the societal reprocations, and the spiritual. After all, he could repent later in his life, couldn't he?

He glanced about the hospital hall, amazed at the number of poor who were willing to fake an illness to get food and shelter. His gaze returned to 24601. The convict had considerable improvement over the last few weeks. He no longer tossed and turned in his bed, he no longer moaned, he just…. slept. Javert was concerned for the convict. He doubted ValJean would know where he was when he woke up, that is, if he woke up. He allowed himself the luxury of brushing away a few stray strands of hair, after looking around to make shure that nobody was watching. He smiled lightly, and went back to his book. A few minutes later he heard a light voice: "Javert?" assuming this one was one of his dreams about his mother, he said: "Mother, I am wide awake, do not bother me. I know your message. I have found happiness, do not squander it."

"Do I look like your mother to you, Monsieur l'warden?"

Javert glanced over to the bed, where the all-too-familiar voice of ValJean had just woken up.

"24601, your awake." Javert said, folding his page and setting his book down.

"Either that, or you're delirious." ValJean said, quirking and eyebrow.

"You've been asleep for the past 3 weeks." Javert said, pouring some water and handing it to the convict, who just sat up.

"How do you know that?" ValJean asked and took a sip.

"I haven't left your side for a moment." Javert saw ValJean spit out some of the water in shock.

"You WHAT?"

"Honestly 24601, your no Voltaire, but I assume you to have enough sense to presume that I would not let a convict, much less one who has tried to escape before, out all alone, in a hospital, in Paris, far from Toloun." _And I wanted to be here for this moment. _He added to himself.

"Now that you put it that way…." 24601 mumbled. "So that where I am, Paris?"

"Yes, 24601. We transferred you from Toloun in a carriage. You were on the brink of death many times." Javert added that sentence for reason he did not know.

"You should have let me die. No use living if I have four more years to serve in hell."

Javert didn't know what to saw to that, but thankfully he didn't have too, seeing as a sister came in and saw ValJean and Javert talking and ran over.

"Oh praise the lord! Your awake!" The nun crossed herself.

"Sister, I believe 24601 needs a doctor." Javert said, and watched the rather rotund little

Penguin scurry off.

"A charity hospital? What Javert, I don't deserve to have my medical bills payed?"

If Javert didn't know any better, he'd say that ValJean was flirting with him. Well…if he wanted to play it like that…

"No, ValJean, they just have better medicine." He watched ValJean's eyes widen is surprise.

"What ValJean? Amazed I know your name?"

He saw ValJean nod.

"I know the names and numbers of everyone in my charge ValJean." _How could I not know your, is haunts my dreams. _

"Really? Then who's my cellmate?" ValJean asked, wating for Javert to answer.

"35792, Other wise know as Brevet." Javert answered with out missing a beat.

"Hmm..then who was the convict who tried to kill me?" ValJean asked with a triumphant wag of his head. Before Javert could respond, the doctor came in and pushed Javert to the side claiming how ValJean recovered was "a holy miracle." And the he was "touched by God himself." Javert was slightly miffed about being thrust to the side like a piece of refuse. When the days hustle and bustle was done, 24601's temperature taken, food layed out for him fit for the emperor himself, and more medicine given to him, then doctors left, with much reluctance, and Javert sat down in his chair, only to jolt up again, realizing he sat on a needle. He took the needle away, looked closely at his chair, wiped the seat a bit, and relaxed into his chair. He picked up his book from where it had fallen, and glanced over at ValJean, who was staring up at the ceiling.

"A soux for you thoughts, ValJean."

Javert's green eyes locked with ValJean's blue as the convict pushed a strand of long blonde hair out of his face.

"In all honesty Javert, I wonder why the hell you had to hit me that hard. Now that I'm awake, my side hurts to no end." ValJean closed his eyes and layed his matted hair on the pillow.

"Sit up ValJean." Javert said as he walked across the room to a cot that ValJean didn't even notice.

"What?" he asked as Javert came back to his bedside with a silver backed brush and comb.

"I said sit up, 24601" Javert said, glaring at him. ValJean complied, but not without a look of puzzlement when Javert slid behind him and poured some water from the pitcher next to him through his hair, catching it in the bowl. Javert repeated these actions until the water from ValJean's hair ran clean. Then he took his silver backed brush and comb, and started to run them through ValJean's hair, ignoring the cry's of protest and pain from the man pratically in his lap.

"Honestly ValJean, do you think I'm going to let my charge look…well..like a convict?"

"OWCH!"

"Damn it ValJean! Do you want me to make you bald!" the problem wasn't that ValJean was in pain, no, it was the fact that, while sitting in Javert's lap, Valjean was squirming. And Javert was reacting to the squirming…rather..Adamantly.

"Javert, there's something sticking into my back." Valjean complained after a bit of silence.

"That's the comb." Javert easily lied to the man that was him. Through 3 layers of fabric, two loose, and one very dense, and Valjean's own shirt, the man still managed to feel his own painful arousal.

"Oh…" Javert couldn't believe his own ears. Was Valjean…disappointed that it was the 'comb'? When it came to mind that Valjean could actually desire him, his felt his fingers go numb and he dropped the brush into Valjean's lap. He reached over his charge and picked up the comb; only vaguely amiss that something was wrong. He didn't notice the way Valjean's hands were positioned in his lap until he was well back over his shoulder, finishing up what was left to do.

"Turn around Valjean. I need to brush your bangs." Javert said, sounding more like a mother to the convict then a warden.

"Umm..I-I'll do them myself." Valjean said, making an attempt to grab the brush.

"Nonsense ValJean." Javert moved both the comb and the brush away from the convicts grasp.

"Damn it Javert!" Valjean stated as he leaned over the lap of the warden to grab the brush, only to brush aginst something else…

Shora: MUHAHAHA! Sexual cliffie! R&R!


	5. Chapter 5

Shora: Sorry I was gone for so long! It took me forever to get me compy back online and when I did, I had to delete tons of s& to get it to run at my uber-fast-cheetah-on-crack-speed. And sorry if you no longer have interest in this, just muscle your way through the first two (horrid) chapters and you get to the good stuff. Once again, I'm SOOOOO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR MONTHS! TT I should have put up a "on hiatus" sign. I'm sorry! Oh! I need a beta..so..yeah…(I'm sorry about the errors in this story. I will fix them once this is finished)

"Javert…what on earth is-" Before Valjean could finish his sentence; Javert had already left to room. Valjean arranged his facial features in a some-what-mainly pout, and settled down to wait. After all, Javert had his bed here, his things were here, and his carrier was here..Well..He was and Valjean was a part of his carrier. Javert had to return…right?

Javert bolted. He could only count four times in his life he had been afraid. Not the someone-sunk-up-behind you scared. He was shaking he was so scared. And those times had been in life-or-death situations. With a pistol aimed at his head. But this…he was afraid of…of _losing_ Valjean? Javert knew that he cared for the convict deeply, that his happiness depended on Valjean's happiness, and when Valjean nearly died, the terror he felt was almost a deep as this…utter horror. Javert shivered as he walked along the mist-covered river. It was late, late enough to be called an ungodly hour. He stuck his hands under his arms, trying to keep the feeling from leaving his fingers. He wandered along the Seine blindly until he came to a secluded bridge, hidden from the passerby's by trees and bushes. He climbed up the steps and leaned on the railing, in the shadow of a large factory, asleep for the night. He stared down into the black, swirling water. To him it seemed to mimic his mind. Confusion. He put his head in his hands, massaging his eyes; while his fingers pulled his hair out of the queue he always kept it in, so it curled around his neck and shoulders.

"Monsieur, what are you doing here?" A young woman's voice asked him, causing him jump out of his skin. Javert turned around, expecting to see a prostitute, and to tell her to take her business else ware, but instead he locked eyes with a young girl of about 12, with long blonde hair.

"Just watching the river." Javert stated, ignoring the factory girl.

"Monsieur, why are you sad?" The girl asked him, standing next to him, standing on her tiptoes and just being able to look over the railing.

The girl's insightful question startled him. "I…I think I'm losing someone."

"You're mama or papa Monsieur?" The girl stated, knocking a small stone over into the water.

"Neither." Javert stated, his childhood wasn't a happy one. "They are both in Heaven."

"My mama and papa are in Heaven too Monsieur. That's why I work."

Javert glanced over at the girl, who was dangling off the rail attempting to see over the side.

"You work? Here?" Javert shuddered to think that a girl so young could work in such a dark forbidding place. He saw her little blonde head, no higher then his hip, nod in the darkness. Well, not so dark anymore. The sun was rising. He saw the little girl pull a coin out of her bag, the tiny copper almost as big as her own palm. He saw her screw her eyes shut, turn around, and throw the coin into the river.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, wondering if that was the girl's whole week of wages. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the factory doors open.

"I made a wish Monsieur. My friend Favourite told me to do that and the wish will come true."

Javert found himself smiling. "What did you wish for child?"

The little girl looked him in the eyes. "For you to be happy Monsieur."

Before the little girl could run off, Javert had one more question: "Child, what's your name?"

The little girl looked him in the eyes again. "Clarisse Monsieur." And before he could tell her his, she ran into the factory doors. He glanced down the bridge and saw more woman, factory woman, walking across the bridge. He nodded to them as he passed them, everything becoming clear to him. He walked down the same path he did earlier, but this time, in the light and with his head up, making plans. He wasn't afraid of losing Valjean. He couldn't lose him. They were stuck in Toloun together. Besides. Like the little girl said. He deserves to be happy…

Shora: R&R please!


	6. Chapter 6

Shora: Hello! Thank you for all of the reviews! Note: if you could guess who the little girl was, I'll give you a Pocky! (A cream covered cookie for the unenlightened.)

Note: The character descriptions are biased on my school's version of Les Mis, where our Valjean was 6'9" with blonde hair and blue eyes, and our Javert was 5'5" with black hair and black eyes. So don't sue me or throw bricks. Yet.

Javert turned the doorknob slowly, praying that it wouldn't creek. His prayer was answered. He swung the door in gently, seeing as it was well past midnight, he didn't want to alert the man inside to his presence. He steeped into the room, trying out the wooden floor, not sure if it creaked. He glanced up on the bed, and stopped. Valjean lay there, surrounded by his halo of golden hair and moonlight from the window across from his bed. He was sleeping, sitting up. Javert knew that he waited up for him, judging by that fact that Valjean was sleeping at an odd angel. Javert smiled to himself, and walked over to Valjean touching his shoulder lightly, waking him a bit.

"Valjean, lay down. You'll hurt your back." Javert said, pushing Valjean down onto the bed, leaving over him a bit.

Valjean opened his eyes sleepily, and blinked a bit. "Javert? What on earth?"

"Shh..we'll talk in the morning Valjean." With that Javert walked to the other side of the room, stripped down to just his shirt, and climbed into his cot, and glanced over at the blonde man in the hospital bed, bathed in moonlight. With that image in his mind, Javert feel into a deep, restful sleep.

Javert groaned as the sunlight streamed onto his face, waking him from sleep. He heard a deep chuckle from across the room. Javert cracked open an eye and glanced at the bed, and saw Valjean sitting up, a cup of steaming something in his hands, and an open book on his lap.

"Valjean..What time is it?" Javert said as he groaned and sat up, cracking his neck and back.

"Around 2 in the afternoon. You slept all day practically. You needed it." Valjean said as he watched the lithe body underneath the shirt move and the muscles stretch and ripple.

Javert stood up, and pulled on his pants, a bit uncomfortable dressing in front of the other man. He normally got dressed when Valjean was asleep.

"Where did you go last night?" Valjean knew he could have added more to that sentence but he knew that would probably frighten the poor warden out of his mind.

Javert stopped, his vest unbuttoned, the last few buttons of his shirt open, exposing his lean chest. "I went for a walk, along the river."

Valjean, glanced down, tearing his gaze away from the smooth back underneath the plain white shirt before him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, Warden."

"Don't call me that." Javert said, his composure cracking.

"What?" Valjean said, confused.

"Jean, please, don't call me Warden. You can do that when we are back in Toulon, on the yard, but here, now, with just us, call me Javert..or…Dominic, if you wish to call me that." With the unveiling of his given name Javert turned around to face Valjean, chewing on his inner lip a bit.

"Allright then, Dominic. Where did you go last night?" Valjean asked again, studying Javert's jaw line for any sign of tension.

"I went for a walk along the river."

He moved and sat down on the chair beside Valjean slowly, as if testing the waters.

"That's all?" Valjean, said, honestly confused about Javert's actions.

"I met someone, a little girl. She told me to be happy, Valjean." Javert said, crossing his legs and putting one arm behind the chair.

"So..Are you happy Javert?" Valjean asked, letting his gaze ghost over Javert's frame and chest, seeing his shirt was unbuttoned a bit.

"Almost Valjean. There is one thing I have yet to be happy about." Javert said, turning his head to face Valjean almost coyly, running his eyes up and down the chronically underfed body.

Valjean squirmed under Javert's gaze. "And what is that Javert?"

Javert glanced up locking his black gaze with the blue of Valjean's, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. Here it goes. Javert leaned over the bed and the chair and kissed Valjean. The convicts lips were dry and a bit on the rough side, but they were warm. Really warm. Javert felt Valjean stiffen, and he pulled back, savoring the feeling on the other man on his lips, and locking his gaze with Valjean's, letting his inner feelings of desire, lust, adoration, nervousness, anxiety, and fear penetrate his gaze. Shock and confusion were on the other man's face. Javert seemed to shrink in on himself, moving back to his cot, throwing things haphazardly into his bag, so unusual from his almost compulsive folding. His eyes burned with tears as his stomach sank to the floor.

"You are almost healed. Just a few more days and you will be ready to travel. We will return to Toulon, and I will ask for a transfer to Paris." Javert head the bed behind him creek and a warm hand on his hip.

"Why did you kiss me?" Valjean's soft voice said, in almost a whisper. Javert jumped. He hadn't heard the man get up. Javert took a deep breath, and turned to face the man next to him, his cold façade gone.

"Why? 24601, I knew you to be a bit dense, but not like this." Javert said, his voice cracking, tears budding at the corners of his eyes.

"Javert, I may be convict, but I am not dense as to what happens in dark cells. I just never figured that it would reach a guard." Valjean said his voice gruff at first, then getting softer as he went on. "But I never knew that you could…would." He let his voice trail off as he chewed on his lip, still feeling Javert's cool lips pressed there.

"What Valjean?" Javert said, trying to make his tone sharp and failing, looking the other man in the eyes.

Valjean couldn't put what he thought about the warden into words, so he did what came next. He kissed the other man, pulling him close, wrapping his arms around the lithe wardens back. Javert's lips were cold. Not deathly cold, just cold enough to make Valjean shiver.

Javert just stood there in shock for a few nanoseconds, eyes open, before he realized what was going on. He was being kissed by a man. By 24601. By Jean Valjean. With that thought Javert wrapped his arms around the other man's neck, kissing him back.

Valjean deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the smaller man's lips, only to have Javert pull back, as if shocked.

"What is it Javert?" He asked, feeling the much smaller man in his arms begin to tremble.

"I… I've never…. done anything before." Javert whispered, frightened out of his wits, but elated beyond belief.

"It's allright Dominic, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to." Valjean whispered back, pressing a quick kiss to Javert's forehead, stroking his back lightly, feeling all of the muscles twitch underneath his touch.

The sudden use of his first name shocked Javert a bit, but reminded him that trusted this man enough to let him use his god given name. "That would be nice Valjean..sorry, Jean." Javert mentally kicked himself for running that moment.

Valjean chuckled quietly, and said aloud. "Why were we whispering?"

Javert looked up at him, confusion on his face. "Because we are in a public building, and the door wasn't locked. And what are you doing out of bed?"

"God…where…how." Javert couldn't even form a sentence.

"I take it you liked it." Valjean said, lying down on his side, fitting Javert, who felt like he had to bones his body, next to him, with the black hair nestled in his chest.

"That was…God…incredible." Javert said, kissing the branded chest next to his cheek, remembering how he put in that brand himself, and, instead of the pride he once felt, his was horrified at his marring of the bronze chest next to him. His lover seemed to sense his tension and kissed the top of his head. "It's all right Javert. It was before this, before us." He ran his hands up and down the pale back, marveling of the contrast between the sunned bronze of his hands, and the milky white of Javert's skin. Before he knew it, the much smaller man was asleep against his chest, Valjean following him soon after.

Shora: You like it? The full-blown lime is on on Making Hugo Spin. God I love that place!


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